“Her mom needed her to go do something,” Meghan tells me, “so she’s just gonna meet us at the party. Does anyone remember the name of the girl whose party it is anyway? Was it Lucy?”
I don’t remember either, so I look at Dean. He knows everyone and anyone, whether they graduated three years ago or if they’re a freshman. I don’t know how he can even be bothered to remember their names. “Yeah. Lucy,” he says. “A junior, I think.”
“No idea,” I mutter. Whoever the hell she is, it’s no surprise we’re invited to this party she’s throwing. We get invited to a lot of parties by people we don’t know.
Someone clears their throat from the door. All three of us look over, and Tiffani is there, leaning back against the doorframe. Her smile is tight and closed as she curls a strand of her hair around her index finger, her gaze on Dean and Meghan but not on me. “Jake has made you guys some drinks,” she says slowly, and then, with a firmer edge to her voice, she adds, “You should head down and try them.” Her smile grows wider, revealing her teeth.
“In other words: Get out of your room?” Dean jokes, but he’s right. That’s exactly what she’s asking, and in reply to his words, Tiffani only bats those crazy eyelashes of hers. “C’mon, Megs,” he says. “Better leave these kids to it.”
He takes Meghan by the hand and pulls her up from the bed,steadying her as she totters slightly on her heels. As he leads her out of the room, he throws me a knowing look over his shoulder, and I find myself smirking. Tiffani isn’t the best when it comes to keeping her intentions subtle. They’re usually completely obvious, like right now, as she watches Dean and Meghan head downstairs before she shuts her bedroom door and turns back around. Now we’re alone.
“You couldn’t wait until later?” I tease, pressing my beer to my lips and finishing it in one gulp. I abandon the bottle on her dresser and roll the sleeves of my flannel shirt up to just below my elbows as I close the distance between us. It’s all so familiar, so part of the routine, that my hands are already gripping her hips of their own accord, my mouth on the edge of her jaw. I almost choke on the overbearing taste of her perfume.
For some reason, she isn’t reciprocating, and after a few seconds, her hand is against my chest and she’s pushing me a step back. I stare at her, my lips parted and my eyebrows raised, dumbfounded. Tiffaninevershuts me down. Her expression is suddenly a lot more twisted than it was a minute ago. “You left your phone downstairs,” she says sharply, holding it up.
Even though I know it’s my phone, I still pat the back pocket of my jeans, and sure enough, it’s empty. I shrug and raise my hand to take it from her, but she quickly moves her arm away. She shakes her head very slowly but very firmly, and I sigh and scratch my temple. I know she’s pissed about something, and I know I’m going to have to suffer for the rest of the night unless I can find a way to make her happy again. “I read your messages with Declan,” she states after a moment. And I think:That’s it?
“So?” I don’t get what her problem is. Sure, I’m expecting him to hook me up with some joints later tonight, but that’s nothing new.Tiffani is used to that, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise to her, and especially with Declan Portwood. Everyone knows him. Those on the good stuff are his best friends. Those who aren’t tend to hate him.
Tiffani steps closer, her head tilted back a little to glare up at me. “I readallof your messages with Declan,” she rephrases. And this time, it only takes a split second for me to realize what it is exactly that she’s talking about. I freeze in front of her, racking my brain for something to say that can possibly justify the messages she’s read, but I come up empty-handed, and I’m left standing in front of her like a fucking deer caught in the headlights.
“You’re not serious, are you?” she asks, her voice much softer now. Her narrow shoulders sink a little. “You can’t be. You already do enough stupid shit that I put up with, but I swear to God, Tyler, I’m not going to put up with this. You’re taking it too far. I don’t want to be that girl whose boyfriend ends up in jail. Do you even know how that will look?”
I press my lips together, still unsure how to handle the sudden confrontation. Over the years, I’ve learned that it’s better not to argue back with Tiffani and to admit to being wrong as quickly as I can in order to shut her up. I’ve also learned that she doesn’t everreallygive a shit about what I do; she only gives a shit about how it affects her.
“I haven’t done anything yet,” I mutter. I still don’t think it’s even that big of a deal. “We were only talking.”
“Butwhy?” she presses, throwing a hand up in frustration at my apparent lack of good decision-making. “Why would you even consider doing it in the first place? It’s not like you need the money, so what could possess you to do something so fucking stupid?”
I can do nothing but shrug, because I don’t actually know the answer myself. “What is there to lose?”
Tiffani looks at me as though I’m seriously deranged. “Uh.Everything?” she says. “If you think dealing drugs is a good choice in life, then you’re an even bigger idiot than I already think you are.”
I close my eyes and exhale, trying to keep my cool. She’s blowing this way out of proportion, but I’m more inclined to defend myself tonight for once rather than apologize. “It’s just pot.”
“Yeah, and that’s exactly what you said when you first started smoking it, and look at where we are now.” She reaches for my hand and slams my phone against my palm. “You’re gonna start selling pot to freshmen, then you’re gonna end up selling coke to losers just like yourself.” She shakes her head again, this time in aggravation, then she holds her hand up and turns her face to the side. “Don’t talk to me tonight. You’re disgusting, and if I see Declan, he’s gonna get slapped.”
I grind my teeth together but still manage to keep my mouth shut. Saying anything more will make this worse; I know that. I’m pissed off, but I have to remain calm before I seriously flip out on her. The alcohol in my system isn’t helping either. It only makes it harder, but I focus all of my concentration on steadying my breath as Tiffani turns her back on me and heads for the door.
And this whole conversation should be over now—at least for a while—where I take a few hours to calm down before I start kissing her ass again, but she does the most remarkable thing. She stops, turns around, and opens that pouty little mouth of hers one more time.
“You know, Tyler,” she says, her lips forming a smug, cruel smile, “sometimes I think youwantto end up in jail just like your dad.”
The tiny, tiny amount of self-control that I’ve been clinging to snaps.She did not just say that.My fists clench and I need a way to release the fury that erupts in my chest and the rage that spreads through me like a wildfire. I snatch the closest thing to me: My empty bottle of beer on thedresser. I don’t even realize I’ve hurled it across the room until it smashes against the far wall, shattering into pieces that cascade to the floor. I’m breathing too heavily and my eyes are wide and wild, and when I force myself to look back at Tiffani, her mouth is agape with shock.
“I’m leaving,” I growl through gritted teeth. I shove my phone back into my pocket and grab my car keys from the other one, pushing past her.
“Good!” Tiffani yells back, pointing to the shards of glass on her carpet. “You’re a complete douche bag.”
I could say so much more and so much worse about her, but I know I need to get out of here before my temper flares up even more than it already has. I wish I was better at keeping my anger under control, but I just can’t. I was raised this way. As soon as I throw open Tiffani’s bedroom door, I can already hear the music from the kitchen. I can hear Meghan laughing too, but I’m in no mood to join them tonight. I storm down the stairs, desperate to get the hell out of this house and as far away from Tiffani as I can. I keep my eyes locked on the front door, and even though Dean calls my name, I don’t glance up. I keep walking, straight past all of them and over the threshold, slamming the door behind me.
My car is parked against the sidewalk directly outside the house, and although I’ve had several beers, my desperation to get away from here overpowers my will to stay on the right side of the law. Right now, I couldn’t care less.
I unlock my car and slide in behind the wheel, pulling the door shut at the same time as I aggressively tug my seatbelt on. The engine roars to life and I slam my foot down on the gas, accelerating so harshly that my tires screech against the road. There’s a stop sign just ahead, but I don’t slow down. I never do.
3
Five Years Earlier
